


and it was you

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oneshot, iwaoi - Freeform, mentions of makki and mattsun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before he pulled himself away, his eyes returned to the many photographs spread across the wall. They all shared one thing in common: they displayed moments of genuine happiness in Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s life.</p><p>Because that’s what they were – despite all the struggles and hardship they’d had with their lives, their careers, even with each other – always happy in the end. And Iwaizumi would be damned if he lost sight of that important fact during such a tough time in both of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and it was you

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a mixture of angst and fluff and domestic iwaoi and then this happened.  
> Shoutout to [kireiwei](https://twitter.com/kireiwei) for proofreading this/listening to me rant.  
> pls punch me in the face on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cyborgtoaster)

It wasn’t easy when Oikawa first hobbled back into their apartment, sporting a clumsy pair of crutches and a sizable bandage wrapped around one knee. Iwaizumi held the front door open for him, watching carefully as Oikawa paused in the hallway, seemingly holding his breath. A moment passed where both men were completely silent, Oikawa almost eerily still. And then, 

“I’m home.” 

Oikawa’s voice was soft and wavering, but it filled the silence, familiar as ever. Iwaizumi felt a lump rise in his throat and he forced it back down, calmly shutting the front door behind him. It had only been a week since they’d gotten back from the hospital, but it had felt like much longer. Between routine check-ups, daily medication, bandage changes, physical therapy, and a whirlwind of other things, it had been a lifetime’s worth of exhaustion. Especially for Oikawa, who had taken the entire ordeal with an impressive amount of grace.  

Iwaizumi followed Oikawa down the hallway, making sure the brunette could navigate his way to their spacious living room and settle comfortably on the couch without trouble. Iwaizumi didn’t miss the small grimace that crossed the other man’s face as he leaned back in the couch, and he was quick to help adjust the bandaged leg to a less painful position. 

“You feeling okay? You want water or anything?” Iwaizumi couldn’t keep a look of concern off of his face, even though he knew Oikawa hated being doted on when it actually mattered. “Some water would be nice, actually, it’s kind of stuffy in here,” the brunette stretched his arms out as he leaned back into the couch cushions. 

“It’s probably because I turned the AC down before we left, I’ll go fix it now,” Iwaizumi called over his shoulder as he went to retrieve water from the kitchen. 

After fiddling with the temperature controls and pouring a glass of water, he came back to find Oikawa already flipping through documentaries on Netflix, probably searching for the latest proof that aliens did indeed inhabit their planet. It was refreshing to see Oikawa settling into their normal evening routine, although the white of the gauze was a reminder that things wouldn’t be quite the same for a while. 

Iwaizumi handed Oikawa the glass of water, receiving a soft  _ thanks, Iwa-chan _ , and ran a hand through the thick waves of brunette hair that were so familiar to the touch. He settled next to Oikawa on the couch, leaning into the other man’s side as he played with his lover’s hair. Oikawa hummed softly, closing his eyes as Iwaizumi’s fingers massaged his head. 

They were both silent for a long moment, pressed into each other’s warmth, and it wasn’t until the television remote slid out of Oikawa’s hand that Iwaizumi realized he had fallen asleep. He slowly withdrew from the couch to put the remote on a nearby coffee table and find a blanket from their bedroom. 

As he walked down the hall, a glint on the wall caught his eye, and he found himself studying the set of memories he and Oikawa had carefully placed on the wall over the years. Most of them were photographs: two boys playing with a half deflated soccer ball in a backyard, posing cockily in front of their middle school, standing alongside a teal-clad volleyball team in their high school gym, gleefully shoving white cake into each other’s mouths and over their suit jackets.

There were other things hanging too, the silly promise rings converted into necklaces that Oikawa had insisted they wear through undergrad so they “wouldn’t forget each other when they were so far apart”, Iwaizumi’s medical degree he’d been so proud of at the time (and still was), little souvenirs from their vacations around the world when they both could catch a break. 

But more distinct, gleaming gold even in the dim light of the hall, were the three gold medals that laid flat against the wall. Sometimes Iwaizumi wondered how things that looked so simple could mark such significant landmarks in their life. 

He could hardly remember a time he had screamed so loudly after the match had ended, bolting upright in the bleachers the instant the volleyball hit the ground. Oikawa had set the last point, the most fitting end, and all Iwaizumi could see in that moment was Oikawa’s radiant smile, his look of sheer joy. 

The next moment, he had been sprinting towards the back hallway that the Japanese team would come through, ready to assault Oikawa with a barrage of congratulatory affection. The second they both spotted each other they had broken into a run and collided in the middle, Iwaizumi lifting him off of the ground.  

Later that week, Iwaizumi had watched Oikawa put up that first medal on their wall with a wide smile on his own face, so,  _ so  _ proud that his boyfriend had seen all of his hard work and practice pay off in the national spotlight. 

The few years before the second medal would accompany the first were hard. Iwaizumi had just finished medical school and was starting residency, coming back to their apartment late every night. Oikawa had been training and playing matches against other teams, often times traveling out of the country. But somehow they had trudged through it, and Iwaizumi had skipped a week’s worth of classes to watch Oikawa win his second medal.  

He had found himself on one knee a month later, barely keeping his hands from shaking as Oikawa stared down at him in shock. And with echoes of a frantic  _ yes, oh my god yes  _ in Iwaizumi’s ears, he found himself standing at the altar on a late afternoon he would never forget. It had been a small affair, only family and close friends, but Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s loud cheers and howls had made up for the lack of audience. 

The years after that were surreal: they moved to a bigger apartment closer to Tokyo, closer to where Oikawa’s routine training was held. Iwaizumi joined a medical practice in Tokyo that was steadily growing in volume and reputation. They had more time together, especially in the evenings, and to Oikawa’s insistence had begun the ritual of taking bubble baths together. 

The next Olympics drew nearer. Oikawa’s team won match after match in the year prior to qualify, although nobody doubted that they would. 

The Japanese team won gold for the third time, setting a record for their country. It received tons of news coverage and reports, making Oikawa somewhat of a celebrity. It was good, it was great, and seemingly nothing could have worked out for the better. That’s what Iwaizumi had told himself after Oikawa put up the third medal and spun around to pull him into a slow, deep kiss. 

And then The Stumble had happened. It was just an involuntarily lapse in footwork, a bad landing from a jump, and Oikawa had fallen down in just the wrong direction. He had a history of pain in that knee that was on and off for various reasons, and he’d never injured it to any major extent before. But they were both getting older, in their thirties, and it had only been a matter of time before some disaster struck. 

It came in the form of a badly torn ACL. For a painfully long time, Oikawa tried to hold on to the volleyball team, promising that he’d be back in no time. But the first surgery on his knee had had complications, and the recovery time had been longer than anyone had expected. 

_ Most athletes retire in their thirties anyway.  _

_ You had an amazing career, maybe it’s time to relax.  _

_ You can still play volleyball, even if it’s not on the national team.  _

Oikawa had heard those lines over and over from various people, including their parents, and Iwaizumi knew how much he hated to hear them. But the reality was, Oikawa couldn’t play volleyball anytime soon in his current state. Iwaizumi had been able to tell that some days it was even painful for Oikawa to get out of bed. 

They had decided on a second surgery to correct the problem once and for all, but at that point, it was basically a given that Oikawa wouldn’t be returning to the national team. It was hard for Iwaizumi to watch Oikawa give up on pursuing his dream, but Oikawa had remained surprisingly quiet about it all this time. 

And now Iwaizumi was in their apartment, standing in their hallway, lost in thought at the sight of those three medals. He had to force himself to remember why he was standing there in the first place,  _ to get blankets for Oikawa _ . Before he pulled himself away, his eyes returned to the many photographs spread across the wall. They all shared one thing in common: they displayed moments of genuine happiness in Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s life. 

Because that’s what they were – despite all the struggles and hardship they’d had with their lives, their careers, even with each other – always happy in the end. And Iwaizumi would be damned if he lost sight of that important fact during such a tough time in both of their lives. 

Thankful that Oikawa wasn’t around to witness this cheesy moment of reminiscing, Iwaizumi tore his gaze off of the pictures and hurried into their bedroom. It was just as he’d left it before the hospital visit, their bed a bit haphazardly made, some alien patterned socks strewn across the floor, their sci-fi movie posters on the wall curling at the edges. He tugged the large blanket off of their bed and tucked a pillow under his arm, quietly exiting the room and making his way back to where Oikawa slept on the couch. 

The brunette was making the faintest snoring sound, lips slightly parted in his typical sleep expression. Iwaizumi couldn’t remember how many times he’d woken up to Oikawa drooling on his chest, although he couldn’t deny there was something horribly endearing about the entire thing. 

Pushing aside all thoughts of Oikawa’s frustrating levels of adorable, Iwaizumi tried to readjust the sleeping man without waking him, reclining him enough to make him more comfortable but not interfere with his leg. He slowly tucked the pillow behind Oikawa, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Somehow Oikawa always managed to detect Iwaizumi’s kisses, because he let out a soft grumble as his eyes fluttered open and his lips curved into a smile. “Did I pass out just now?” His voice was rough with sleep. 

“Sorry for waking you,” Iwaizumi tried not to sound as regretful as he was. Oikawa just blinked up at him for a moment, then reached out, fingers lightly brushing Iwaizumi’s arm. “Thank you.” His tone was uncharacteristically quiet, almost hesitant. 

Iwaizumi slowly sat down on the couch beside him, opening his mouth to ask what was bothering him, but Oikawa began to speak before he could make a sound. 

“I know the past week has been really hard, not just for me, but for you too. You were there the entire time, and I…” Oikawa’s bottom lip was beginning to tremble; it would’ve been imperceptible had Iwaizumi not had years’ worth of picking out Oikawa’s emotions. 

“When I was younger, my dream was to play volleyball as best I could, so that I could eventually earn a place at the top,” Oikawa launched into a different train of thought, words stumbling out at a faster pace. “I never gave up on that dream and I think I can say that in the end, I was pretty damn good at volleyball.” He laughed, although it was forced. 

Iwaizumi wanted to cut in, to correct him when he said things like  _ was  _ and  _ in the end _ , but Oikawa didn’t give him the chance. 

“I achieved my dream of becoming the best at volleyball, and you were with me the entire time. You’ve  _ always  _ been there; from the time we were silly kids who didn’t know what a volleyball even was. You’re my best friend, my soulmate, my husband-” Iwaizumi’s heart lurched as tears began to fill Oikawa’s eyes. 

“I’ve accomplished one dream of mine and volleyball will always be a part of my life no matter what happens to me. But I think…I think now I’m starting to realize that I had another dream all along. And it was you, Hajime.” 

Iwaizumi knew he wasn’t going to hold out for much longer, especially as Oikawa began to cry in earnest. He threw his arms around the other man, feeling Oikawa shudder with sobs and trying unsuccessfully to blink away tears of his own.  

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Iwaizumi pressed kisses to the top of Oikawa’s head, running his hands through the brunette’s hair and pulling him as close as he could without hurting his leg. “I want you to be happy,” Iwaizumi gently pushed Oikawa away so he could place a hand on either side of his face, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.” 

They stared at each other, both of their eyes embarrassingly teary, until Oikawa let out a small giggle and puffed out his cheeks. “You’re being so cheesy tonight, it’s so unlike my Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi just huffed, releasing Oikawa’s face and kissing him gently on the mouth. “You started it first. Besides, I’ve become a real softie since I married a crybaby.” 

“Hey, now you’re just being mean like your old self,” Oikawa huffed indignantly, but his smile was growing wider on his face by the second. He leaned forward as far as he could, pressing his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. 

They sat like that for a while, eyes fixed on one another, hands clasped together. 

It wasn’t until Oikawa shifted his weight that Iwaizumi stood up, putting on his strict face. “C’mon, we’re getting you to bed. It’s been  _ way  _ too long of a day, for both of us.” 

Oikawa reached for his crutches, but Iwaizumi pushed them aside, instead bending over to pick him up. “Ooh, such a strong Prince Charming,” Oikawa teased as Iwaizumi carefully lifted him. “Don’t bend your leg too much,” Iwaizumi warned, even as Oikawa attacked his neck with distracting kisses. 

It took a while for Oikawa to get changed into fresh pajamas and situated in bed, Iwaizumi settling comfortably under the covers beside him. He leaned over to switch off the lamp and rolled over to kiss Oikawa a last time before they both fell asleep. 

“Love you,” he murmured quietly, feeling Oikawa’s lips pull back into a smile. 

“I love you too,” Oikawa whispered, before they both drifted off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you happen to be a doctor or someone educated on torn ACLs, pls forgive me if i completely mistreated oikawa in this fic and butchered actual surgery aftercare. i did some research, but i mean, i'm no expert.


End file.
